Sunday, May 23, 2010
Welcome to Marriage
So. I have been married to J for twenty-three days. In that time, I have gotten food poisoning, pulled a muscle, and chopped part of a finger off. Wife FAIL! Instead of inundating my facebook friends with countless FAIL updates, I decided to start a blog to chronicle this insanity.
Let's skip to the finger, because that has definitely been the funnest!*
Last Monday I went back to work following my honeymoon/food poisoning/pulled muscle vacation. First day back, and I was feeling domestic and wifey, couldn't wait to run home and make dinner for my new husband--stop the eye rolling! It's true! Got home and he'd already started dinner--"are tacos okay?" so I start chopping an onion with my brand-new, never used Santuko knife. That sucker was badass, slid through the onion like buttah! I'm blah blah blah-ing about my day,co-workers, dinner, etc. I get a work call, chat for a few, and go back to chopping. J says, "Can you chop that cilantro a little finer?"
Sure, husband. Chop chop chop, chat chat chat, "Oh shit, that's a PIECE of my FINGER on the cutting board!" J doesn't think I'm serious, as I'm reaching for paper towels, grabbing my hand, and pressing down for dear life. I yell at him to throw on shoes and start running out the door, because we need to get to the hospital NOW!
My across-the-street neighbor, who has never spoken to me, is on his porch smoking. He offers up, "Cut yourself?" as he sees us running out the door with my hand wrapped in a roll of Bounty. The quicker picker upper! "Yep!" I yell. JC gets in the car and tells me to get in. I'm all, "WTF, how am I gonna open the door with one chopped hand and the other clearly occupied, holding together what is left." He jumps out and opens my door. Neighbor hollers out, "Good thing the hospital is right up the street!" Jackass, nice to meet you too!
Get to the hospital, wait for hours, result is this: no stitches because there's nothing they can stitch. I've permanently lost a chunk of my right index finger, which is now black, because they had to cauterize (burn the hell out of) my finger to stop the bleeding.
Spend the next week in a Vicodin/sleep/facebook stalking haze. Hey, what else could I do? So little did J know, with less than one month of marriage under our belts, I would permanently slightly resemble that freakish-hand guy from Scary Movie!
Hey, in sickness and in health, right? :) Welcome to marriage!
*sarcasm, but it definitely has the best story.